Two Pairs of a Kind
by VestigeTheII
Summary: AU:It was safe to say that Hei Xiong hasn't had a good month. Eight of his men haven't come back after he lent them to Roman, his club got trashed by a blonde bimbo with a temper, and the inspector that came to check the damage fined him for not properly isolating the west wing. His luck changes, for better and worse, when Jaune Arc walks into his club for the second time.
1. High Card

**Disclaimer** **: RWBY is the property of Rooster Teeth and was made by Monty Oum;  
This fic is the property of a bored gamer and unless he tries to monetise it, he can keep it.**

 **Warning** **: This fic is an AU because it contains enough headcanons to fill an armada.**

* * *

It was a deceptively nice day in the kingdom of Vale. Not too warm, not too cold, with nary a cloud in the sky and no wind to bother the silence. It was a perfect day to take a stroll and relax. Jaune Arc vaguely wondered if the world was mocking him.

Said young adult had a faraway look on his face as he walked barely faster than a snail around the streets of Vale with a specific destination in mind. Some passerby's were giving him looks ranging from suspicious to worried as the blond made his way into a very specific section of the city.

His sister once explained to him that it was only natural for people with similar goals to gravitate to one another. It was this mentality that resulted in the kingdom of Vale, as they grouped up to try and defend themselves from the monsters of the World in order to survive. It was this mentality that resulted in Vale's market district, as shopkeepers gravitated to the most visited neighborhood in order to maximize their profit. It was this mentality that resulted in Vale's slums, as thieves gravitated to one another; sometimes to trade, sometimes to collaborate, but mostly to make it harder for law enforcers to catch them.

It was in this unofficial thief district that Jaune's blue eyes began to focus as he saw the club again. With a sigh Jaune made his way inside a nightclub in the middle of the day, a thought that would have made him chuckle if his mood wasn't so sour.

' _They renovated_ ,' thought Jaune as he took a moment to look around. A massive dancefloor with symmetrically placed white squares was present in the middle, surrounded on two sides by various red c shaped sofas with small round glass tables some have used to prop their legs. One side had a pair of stairs that lead to the DJ's turntables and the last side housed the bar.

On one of the bar stools sat a burly looking man around 30 year old, dressed in a formal looking black outfit minus the jacket, chatting it up with the barman about a late shipment of beer. Taking a seat next to them, the two tensed as their eyes landed on Jaune's hair before the burly man looked a little lower.

"Kid?" one eyebrow raised in surprise as he looked down at the young man.

"Hi Junior," said Jaune before clearing his throat, "didn't think you'd remember me."

"You're not exactly an easy face to forget. What do you want this time, Jack?"

"Jaune."

"Whatever."

"Well…you see," began Jaune, not sure how to continue, "they found out...about the - you know, transcripts, and…"

"You better not be expecting your money back," interrupted the brunet with a frown.

"What?! N-No!" the blond quickly backtracked, "They were perfect. I just screwed up…badly…and they found out…so now…"

The burly man stared at the nervous blond as he trailed off, offering an unimpressed stare as Jaune scrambled to pull together his train of thought. The silence stretched on for a moment before Jaune finally bit the bullet and blurted out, "I need a job."

Whatever Junior had been expecting, that wasn't it.

* * *

 **Hello and thank you for giving my first ongoing fic a chance. Although I won't always be able to, I will try to update this fic about once every two weeks, so until next time, thanks a million for reading my fic up to this point.**

 **Special thanks to** **:** **Kallashandra for beta reading, and all of you that took the time to drop a review...don't like to admit it but I kind of like reading them.**


	2. A Pair of Twos

**Disclaimer** **: RWBY is the property of Rooster Teeth and was made by Monty Oum;  
This fic is the property of a bored gamer and unless he tries to monetise it, he can keep it.**

* * *

"HEY!"

"Gah!"

"Rise and shine, blondy!" screeched a girl with a nasally accent, "You start early today."

Said blond was still dazed from being jolted awake and he blearily looked around the small room. A sense of worry began to overtake him when he didn't recognize the room he was in, nor did it have a window so he could see outside; just a small ventilation vent near the corner farthest from the door.

"What," his trail of thought quickly came to a stop when he realized the voice that woke him was still in the room, "is _that_?"

In the middle of this small room stood a young lady in a strapless white dress; her green eyes seemed to stare at the small bed Jaune occupied.

"W-what's what?" came the blondes reply as he removed the covers in hopes of finding the source of her distress.

"Oh dust...not another one..." said the black haired girl as she covered her face with her white gloved hand while shaking her head.

"Another what?" Jaune was beyond confused, there didn't seem to be any stain or bug on his bead, and his outfit looked clean.

"Just...get dressed now and meet me out," she replied once she stopped smothering her face.

"H-hey wait, what's going on?"

"We got the building materials early and Junior wants you to work on isolating the west wing."

The word "Junior" seemed to flip a switch in the young man's head as memories of the past couple of days began to flash through it and he realized what this was. He was under the club, in a room that used to belong to one of his benefactors men; Junior told him he hadn't heard from that man in weeks, which considering the business he was in either meant he was dead or trying to convince others he was. Either way the room and everything in it was Jaune's, at least for now.

With an audible click the door closed and Jaune made up his mind. Picking up a grey T shirt and black overshirt with white cuffs from the small wardrobe his room had, he began to take off his blue bunny slippers and onesies. It was during this Jaune noted the white bunny his clothes had on the chest area.

'Maybe she hates rabbits?' mused Jaune, before remembering she was probably waiting for him outside. Mindful not to make her angry, he quickly took his blue jeans and got dressed. Washing his face at the sink near his door, he looked at his reflection and noted that although the clothes were about one size too big, he still looked presentable.

"About time," snarked the brunette automatically as he exited the room, not even glancing at him.

"S-sorry to keep you waiting." replied the blond just as automatically with a touch of nerves.

"Whatev," she replied in a neutral tone, "this way blondy."

"Jaune."

"Like, whatever."

They traversed the narrow corridors of the club in silence, with Jaune becoming increasingly concerned whether he would be able to find his room again.

Climbing a pair of stone steps, the two stopped at the sight of multiple people working on the wall. Most of them were dressed in a mix of outfits that looked like they had pulled on whatever clothes they found lying around, but a few of them seemed to be wearing some form of a uniform Jaune didn't recognize.

"Hey! No slacking off kid," and somewhere away from the walls stood Junior, angrily glaring at one of the men in uniform, "I pay you by the hour, so I expect you to work in the hour! You can slack off after you've finished plastering the wall! Ted! Any news about the paper shreds!"

"Flippy said he left 'bout 15 minutes ago boss."

"15...Cindy! Open the backdoor and let me know when they get here!"

"Got it!"

"Don't think I can't see you taking a smoke Banjo!"

"W-wh-who? N-nah man..."

Fortunately for Banjo, Junior took note of the two teens, "How long have you two been standing there!"

"W-well you see..." Jaune began.

"We just got here," before being interrupted by his female companion.

"Sure you did, Melanie," said Junior unconvinced while looking after something, "Mousse!"

"Yeah?" replied a man in his thirties in a sleeveless shirt, sitting on a ladder and nailing what looked like rubber sheets to the wall.

"New kid's with you! Give him a rundown and let him take your load, you're on tonight!"

Wordlessly, the chocolate eyed adult known as Mousse climbed down the ladder and gave Jaune a once over.

"What're you called blondie?" asked the black haired man, who's cream colored roots indicated he needed to re-dye his hair.

"...Just Jaune."

"Let me see... " said Mousse, idly running a thumb through his black mustache, "let the kid have your spot Banjo...and lose the cigar; don't want holes in the wall until after we finish this."

"Yeah, yeah," replied the dark haired smoker with brown roots, dropping the remains of his cigar before stepping on it.

"Ok kid, all you have to do is use the pulley here to give Banjo a sheet after he's done nailing one to the wall. Any questions?"

"...Is that his real name?" Jaune wondered out loud.

"My mom's really into music. Can't play one for shit though." Banjo supplied.

Junior and Melanie watched the blond with a critical eye as he moved to help the men, stepping back from the crowd a bit. He was awkward and a bit clumsy, but was able to adjust his grip whenever he was about to drop something.

"Hey, Hei?" Melanie finally broke the silence. A grunt was her only indicator Junior heard her. "Where's Miltia?"

"Sent her out to find out why Ginger didn't bring my dust." Hei supplied.

"You should have sent us both." grumbled Melanie.

"She can handle herself fine. Besides, Ginger's harmless."

"Unless she hired someone," Melanie mused, her tone at odds with her words.

"If you're that worried, why not go and tail her?" retort Junior, "Got better things to do than get criticized by a kid."

" _I'm not a_ …you sure we can trust him?" she said, referring of course to the newcomer.

"We?" he raised his brow in her direction before shaking his head dismissively, "yeah, I'm sure."

"But he's completely clean." Melanie argued.

Junior's eyes lazily landed on Melanie before replying, "And you found that out without reading those files I told you not to touch, right?"

"Well...there was like, nothing in his room for one."

"And you were expecting to find…?"

Melanie's brow furrowed in frustration, "Something to drink, something to smoke, something to swallow...just something!"

"Should be pretty low on the upkeep if I'm lucky then," the brunet mused.

"And the only thing he ever did was pay you to fetch him some transcripts."

"So you did look in the files..." he said unsurprised.

" _So_ not the point! How did he even found out about you when he spent most of his life in some dainty little village?" Melanie outright demanded while stomping her foot on a maner Junior might have found endearing if it wasn't so annoying.

With a tired sigh, Junior turned his head to face Melanie, "You remember that file mentioning he worked at a bar for about a year?"

"Well, yeah," her brow furrowed again, this time in concentration, "but it didn't mention the place and I like, figured you messed up."

"He used to work at Delis's joint." Junior watched as Melanie's eyes widened in shock.

"...Delis?"

"Uhuh."

"...The owner of La Petite Fleur?"

"That's the one."

"...You're kidding me."

"Stayed there till he had the money to buy the transcripts and left," said Junior while idly running a hand through his beard, "she even gave me a call he was on the way,"

"That...makes even...ok so she has a habit of offering jobs to...but her joint is like...on the other side of the planet."

"Only if you try and go there hammered," Junior replied offhandedly.

A small pause settled between them as Melanie tried to compose herself.

"So like, _why_ did he seek her out?"

"Dunno, don't care," Hei waved his arm dismissively, "Delis vouched for him and whatever you think the kid would pull off to mess with us will affect her business as well, so relax."

Another pause settled, this time so Melanie could consider Junor's words.

"I still don't like this."

A sigh was his initial response, "And I long stopped caring. Now, how about you make yourself useful and go and make sure no one's making trouble on the ring?"

With a huff, she turned on her heels and stomped her way to the public side of the club.

'Should I let Delis know the transcripts were a bust,' the youngest of the Xiong family mused, 'guess I'll let the kid decide that...speaking of...''

Unfortunately for the workers, the end of his musing marked his next never ending tirade of orders. Well, at least they had a new guy to share their misery with this time.

* * *

 **Well, this was a thing. Got to be honest I had multiple ideas on how to do this chapter. Was going back and forth on whether I should drop the bomb now on how Jaune got found out…which incidentally is what allows this fic to even exist. But I opted to keep it on the down low for now and let others pry it for him later...probably in chapter 5 unless it get's too big.**

 **Thanks a million to everyone that made it this far into my fic.**

 **Special thanks to** **:** **Kallashandra for beta reading, and all of you that took the time to drop a review...don't like to admit it but I kind of like reading them. **


	3. A pair of Threes

**Disclaimer** **: RWBY is the property of Rooster Teeth and was made by Monty Oum;  
This fic is the property of a bored gamer and unless he tries to monetise it, he can keep it.**

 **Warning** **: This fic is an AU because it contains enough headcanons to fill an armada.**

* * *

' _And today started out so well..._ '

Well that was a bit of an overstatement. Militiades Malachite's day started with her getting woken up early in the morning by Junior before the Sun even bothered to rise, hearing Melanie and Junior exchange choice words to one another for ten minutes, being sent alone to find one of his contacts, and having to dress in some bland and unassuming outfit - a grey overcoat with matching pants and a black cloche for those interested - so people couldn't recognize her easily. All things considered she certainly has had better days. Still...

' _I'd rather have gone through that every day for a week instead of having to deal with this..._ '

Her reason for being inside a rather unkempt apartment was simple; Go to Ginger's, ask her what's the holdup on Junior's shipment, and help or encourage her to send it to him with either words or punches. Not that the calmer of the Malachite twins was planing on doing any pummeling; in fact she was willing to bet the reason she was sent alone was so that Melanie wouldn't try the latter option on their client.

' _Doubt she'd care either way right now..._ '

Ginger, a thirty something redhead from Mistral, was one of Junior's main suppliers of lightning dust, arguably one of the most consumed dust types on Remnant, who helped Junior to smuggle it from outside the kingdoms. Their interaction has become relatively routine over the years; half her pay was in credits, the other in gin, and in no more than a week she'd stumble with a box of supplies for Junior asking for another round.

' _But what am I even supposed to do?..._ '

This wasn't exactly a problem she could help Ginger, or Ginny if you prefer, with. Which left Miltiades, or Miltia if you prefer, to contemplate what to do while staring at Ginny. What was Ginny's problem, exactly?

Well, she was kind of dead.

Her fuchsia eyes were closed, giving the illusion she was sleeping. An illusion quickly shattered by the dry blood on her neck and grey tank top, ending at her stomach and starting at the large gash in her neck that was as wide as her smiles used to get when she took a shot. There was some red on her left hand, where a bloodied knife was barely held in a loose grip, and some red stains had made their way onto her violet flannel pants. The door was locked when Miltia got here, having had to use Junior's spare key to get in, and there was even a note left on the counter Miltia skimmed over. What happened here was obvious.

' _Whoever did this was good..._ '

There was a closed but unlocked window in the studio Ginny occupied, and the letter was signed with Ginger. That, combined with the fact the letters addressed relatives Ginny hadn't kept in touch with and didn't even know where they lived was enough to tell Miltia, or at least give her some hope, that what she was seeing and what happened didn't match.

' _Not like it matters...the cops probably will barely give this a second glance...unless..._ '

Biting her lip, Miltia contemplated her next actions, looking frantically around the studio with her green eyes in hopes of finding a better answer. Her eyes eventually landed on the redhead and with a grimace began to scour the room. Thankful she remembered to come here with her gloves, she went about opening every cupboard and sliding every drawer, till she found what she was looking for; a stash of lien.

It was while she was reaching for it that Miltia finally realized her hands were shaking. Vaguely she wondered if they had been shaking since she got in the room, or only now she was technically about to feast on the dead like some starved rat. Deciding any answer wasn't going to make her feel better, she grabbed the stash and the note before making her way to the exit.

"Sorry," she said to no one in particular, and after making sure there was no one in the hall, left the apartment without locking the door and began her long treck to the club as the Sun was rising.

* * *

' _And today started out so well..._ '

Well that was a bit of an overstatement. Jaune Arc's day started with him getting woken up early in the morning by a teen he found out was named Melanie, getting yelled at by Junior to work faster on placing paper shreds and plastic tiles on a wall for reasons he still didn't quite get, and now being tasked with carrying some of the boxes containing more of the stuff around.

' _Could be worse I guess...my boss could be evil...well...eviler…_ '

It was this musing that veered Jaune slightly off course, forcing the teen to backtrack the surprisingly long hallways that Junior's club seemed made up as he looked for a recognizable landmark or the like. Not the easiest of tasks given most doors were locked.

' _Seriously, why close every single door? This isn't like that game I played with my sisters where someone can just, you know, go in, pick up whatever's lying in the room and murder someone wi - HEY!_ '

His thought process came to a screeching halt as felt a couple of very sharp things on his back and neck.

"Who do you think-" began an unfamiliar feminine voice before getting cut off by a blurting blond, who raised his arms in surrender while dropping the box.

"Jaune Arc! In the Hall! With a box of papers!"

A pregnant paused settled between the two, long enough for Jaune to become nervous, till she replied in a confused tone, "Papers?"

"Yeah," said Jaune, hopeful he was allowed to explain himself, "we got the extra shipment of shredded paper and I was making my way to the west wing, but I sort of went the wrong way."

Feeling the pressure on his neck lessen, Jaune took as his cue to keep it up.

"I don't blame you for not knowing me. I just got hired on the spot yesterday and sort of...locked myself in the room Junior gave me to think about...stuff...till he would call for me and, I'm heading towards him now actually so If you need..." Jaune rambling stopped as the blades were finally moved away. Feeling relatively sure he wasn't going to get shanked, he slowly turned around to be greeted by the sight of…

"Melanie? Did you cut your hair? And put on a detective outfit? And got a new set of claws? And changed your...voice..." if one listened close enough you would have been able to hear Jaune's gears turning, "say, you wouldn't happen to know a Melanie..."

"Sister," was her simple response as she clasped her hands together in front of her, threading her fingers and giving him a look that, if Jaune was perfectly honest with himself, wasn't all there.

"Right," the newly employed said, while getting a little uncomfortable at her stare ,"want to see her? I think she's in the dance hall so, I can probably get you there since there's..."

"I need to see Junior," she interrupted.

"Right...Just, give me one second," the blond supplied before picking up the previously discarded box, "Well...err..."

"Miltiades."

Jaune blinked once and twice, and with a nervous smile he gave it a go,"Mil...ti...ah...des?"

"Miltia is fine."

"Thanks. This way Miltia," he said, after noticing a vaguely familiar painting further down the hall,' _I hope..._ '

Thankfully Jaune's worries were put to rest as she guided him the rest of the way in silence, occasionally pulling on his sleeves to direct him. Once they finally reached their destination, Jaune spotted some of Junior's men waving his way, beckoning him over. He wanted to oblige, but there was still one small matter to deal with.

"I'll see you around I guess?" he said with his best smile, which unfortunately for him was halfway between worried and honest.

Miltia's response came in the form of a nod...not the most convincing of answers, but one that brought promise.

"Cool, see ya later then."

Miltia watched the retreating form of the newest arrival before, with a heavy sigh, she made her way to her sort of boss. Junior was still too busy eyeing everyone to notice her, so she lightly pulled on his sleeves to get his attention, "Hi Hei."

Turning his head slightly to catch her from the corner of his eyes, Junior raised an eyebrow in curiosity, "Back already? Half expected you to have to wait for her to wake up from a hangover."

"Ginny's dead."

* * *

 **Well, stuff happened, and it only took me 3 chapters…to everyone that feels I'm moving too slowly, I'm afraid to say that isn't likely to change soon.** **I tend to prefer character interactions more than fights, and although I will do my best to spice things up every once in a while, keep in mind my fic is character interaction focused, not action** **focused** **.**

 **Apologies in advance if it's not up to your expectations and thanks a million for reading my fic up to this point.**

 **Special thanks to** **:** **Kallashandra for beta reading, and all of you that took the time to drop a review...don't like to admit it but I kind of like reading them. **


	4. A pair of Fours

**Disclaimer** **: RWBY is the property of Rooster Teeth and was made by Monty Oum;  
This fic is the property of a bored gamer and unless he tries to monetise it, he can keep it.**

 **I'm really, really, REALLY sorry about droping this chapter so late…I try and use a biweekly skeduel cause I figured I would have enough time to write both a chapter for this and work on a side project of mine and…well here I am a couple of days late. If it helps in any way, I didn't go and watch the Deadpool movie so I could finish this sooner…I just hope I didn't miss any obvious stuff…anywho, hope you'll enjoy.**

* * *

"Well isn't this just fucking wonderful," growled Junior to no one in particular, as he paced through his office, stepping with just a little extra force whenever he passed the bear skin rug lying in the middle of the room.

Militia for her part patiently sat in one of the guest chairs, her eyes seemingly enamored with one of the brown walls of the basement office. This wasn't the first time she saw Junior like this, but usually her sister was there to tell him to stop pacing, leaving Miltia at a bit of a loss on what to do now that she was alone in the room.

Eventually, Junior stopped, and with a long sigh went to an oddly placed suspended cabinet to pull out an oddly shaped bottle filled with something colorless. Taking a long gulp, the Xiong child rubbed his eyes for the fifth time since coming in the office before finally resting them on the other occupant of the room.

"You did good, Miltia."

Hearing those words Militias eyes crossed paths with Junior, and she vaguely noted how resigned they looked.

"My contact with the cops wasn't high enough to try and force a thorough investigation on a suicide case out of a hunch," Junior amended, "with you leaving the place like you did though, we can at least count on those eggheads to look for a lead."

"What if some of them come here though?"

"Oh, they will alright," he thought while scratching his beard, "she was too much of a slob for them not to find any links here, but we can set up an alibi with everyone else and have you lay low for a bit. Worst case scenario you'll be sent there for one interrogation."

"Ok."

Silence finally reigned in the room for the first time since they entered, eventually interrupted by a heavy sigh from Junior as he opened a drawer next to his seat and began counting lien.

"I'll head out to tip off Basque about the whole thing," he replied while putting the lien in an envelope, "give this to Melanie and send her to the west wing; envelope's for the construction crew for when they're done. You can go relax after."

Miltia rose, but didn't immediately go to pick up the envelope. "Actually...is it fine if I go to the west wing?"

"You sure you're up for it?" he asked with a frown.

"I'd...rather do something right now."

Another pause settled, and another sigh followed, "Sure."

"Thanks Hei."

* * *

"Hey, Hei?!" screeched a girl with a nasally accent from across the dance hall.

With a grimace, Junior pretended not to hear the call as he nonchalantly made his way to the front entrance, a hand in his pocket and another holding a tubular bag slung across his shoulder. At the base of the stairs Melanie Malachite crossed his path, trying to mask her worry while the chain around her neck bounced off synch to her previous dash, "I heard Miltia came back and went to see you..."

' _...instead of me..._ ' Junior's mind finished in her voice, "Ginger's dead; Miltia found her home with her throat slit so she figured I might want to know."

Taking advantage of her shock, he circled around her and began to walk up the steps that lead to the front door. He got halfway there before Melanie cut him off again.

"And why the hell are you leaving this place now?" she demanded to know in an agitated tone.

Junior obliged, not before rubbing his eyes with his free left hand, "Tipping off Basque, obviously."

The frown that formed on her face indicated Melanie didn't find it obvious at all, "And _you're_ going there alone, because?"

"You know anyone else I can send?" he asked annoyed.

"Me, obviously."

The frown that formed on his face indicated Junior didn't find it obvious at all, "I wasn't aware he got over the last time you two talked."

"That was different!", a boot was stomped for emphasis.

A pointed look came before his reply, "How exactly?"

"He had it coming," was her only defence as she did her best not to look him in the eyes.

A short pause followed, during which Junior decided to cut to the heart of the problem, "I'll be fine Melanie."

"Well yeah," she replied matter of factly as she meet his gaze once more, "cause I'm coming with."

' _Oh for fu..._ ' Junior mind began, "can't you just stay and keep an eye on Miltia?"

"I'm sure she'll be fine," she said less loudly, " she...she is fine, right?"

There were a lot of ways Junior could have answered the slightly more subdued brunette. He could have told her to check for herself, pointed out she was trying not to think about it, or just tell her Miltia could be better. Regardless, all the answers would have lead to Melanie backing off.

"Of course she's fine," he said in an exasperated tone, "she's a tough kid you know."

"Of course I know that," she said a little too fast, "I was just...so then I'm coming with."

"Fine," Hei Xiong finally folded as he made his way up the rest of the stairs, "but you're not getting within 20 feet of him."

"Oh come on!"

"25 feet," he said without turning,

"You can't be..."

"30 feet!" he called back so she could hear.

"Ok fine!" she said with a huff, before stalking after Junior, who had already made it to the entrance, "but he still had it coming."

* * *

"So…" began a blond named Jaune in a sea of dark hairs, while holding a sheet of plastic in place,"Is this place always this uh, active?"

"Every Monday," supplied a brunet with brown roots named Banjo while nailing the sheets, "rest of the week is easy or hard depending on how much trouble Monday causes."

"Right, makes sense I guess."

In the realm of education, some claim that Wednesdays are the hardest days of a week, as it is the day effort, interest and attention peak, and teachers are far too eager to feed students as much information as they can before they lose interest.

"So…" came round two at a conversation, "what are we doing after this is over?"

"Usual stuff probably," replied the fake brunet absentmindedly, more focused on nailing one of the sheets to the wall.

"Uh, usual stuff?" Jaune asked.

"Usual Monday shit stuff," Banjo corrected.

"Right, makes sense I guess."

For businesses however, legal or otherwise, monday is the day they are informed of all the setbacks that took place in the weekend that weren't critical enough to warrant an intervention, and unlike a teacher's lecture, they weren't as easy to tune out.

"So…" came round three at a conversation, "is it just me or are all of you...well...not black?"

Hammers paused mid swing as a perplexed look crossed the features of everyone within earshot.

"Not..." mouthed Banjo, turning to eye the blond, "Oh, OH! You mean the hair?"

A nod was quick to follow,"Pretty much."

No longer confused, the hidden brunet turned back to the nail before explaining,"Part of the rules I have to follow if I want to keep my clothes on."

"But why?"

"Why what?" Came the absentminded reply.

"Why dye your hair black?" Jaune asked, genuinely confused.

"Well see, it's like when you want to sell an aging guitar," he explained automatically, " so you put it on display next to a bunch of duplicate guitars of a different color to make it look more unique."

"Huh?"

With a sigh, Banjo tried again with a resigned tone, "It makes it easier not to stand out."

"Right, makes sense I..." Jaune managed before a stray thought struck him like a mace to the head, "does that mean I also have to dye my hair?"

An interesting question, one that made Banjo's hammer pause once more,"Maybe? I mean, Cindy doesn't have to...but she just deals with cleaning up this joint...go and ask Junior to be sure."

"Right, I'll be right back," the child of Arc replied looking left and right in search of his boss, "Uhm...I can't see him."

"Huh? No wonder it got so quiet," replied Banjo before two pairs of blue eyes began to look around, "and if it's this quiet...Aha! There she is."

Following his gaze Jaune's eyes landed on, "Miltia?"

"Yep. She's probably here to keep an eye in his stead. So if anyone knows it's her."

"Right. Be right back."

It was while he lightly jogged towards Miltia that Jaune finally got a good look at her. Despite this not being the first time the two met, the circumstances surrounding that meeting had the Arc child more focused on her, still very present, set of black claws, so he could be forgiven for not paying much attention to the fact that she had changed and was now wearing a red dress with newspaper imprints on it.

Taking a moment to calm his breathing, he opened his mouth just as Miltia's head slightly tilted in curiosity, "Hey Miltia. You got a second?"

A nod was his only response, bringing a small sense of familiarity for the blond that made his lips tilt upward before he explained, "Well see, I was talking to Banjo about stuff, and he told me about how to con people into buying old guitars."

"...Ok?"

"And I was sort of wondering if I had to dye my hair."

"I..." began Miltia before lightly scratching her head with a gloved hand, "what does one like, have to do with the other?"

"Well you see...I'm not entirely sure either..." supplied a sheepish blond.

Clasping her arms in front of her, a thoughtful look crossed her features as she eyed some of the other workers, "Well...what are you going to do here."

"Serving drinks at the counter," Jaune replied automatically, "or at least that's what we agreed I'd do."

"Then yeah, everyone else that worked there had it dyed and Junior takes that spot really seriously." Serious enough to whack them on the head with their own hats and take their spot until it was fixed at least.

His questions finally answered Jaune was ready to head back, but he quickly realized there was a small problem with having to actually change his hair color, "Say, not that I don't want to or anything but...I don't exactly dye my hair very often so I kind of don't have..."

"I can do it after you're done with everything here." Miltia interrupted with uncharacteristic drive.

"You sure?"

"It's fine."

"I mean I don't want cause trouble..."

"It's fine."

"You _really_ sure?"

"It's _fine_."

Sensing annoyance beginning to emanate from Miltia's tone and being reminded of another, more aggressive Malachite, Jaune wisely chose to back down, "Right...I guess I'll be seeing you later?"

"Mhm," she mumbled with a nod.

"Got it. Well...bye," he ended lamely before hurrying back to work just a little faster than before.

' _Hmm...Mel'd probably get mad if I do his hair in our room...well there's always his room I guess..._ '

* * *

 **Next chapter:** **Jaune get's a hair due and offers some insight on how he got found out.**

 **Special thanks to** **:** **Kallashandra for beta reading, and all of you that took the time to drop a review...don't like to admit it but I kind of like reading them.**


End file.
